Beware of the male artist

I recently met an “artist” on the street and made the poor decision to follow him to a party in Brooklyn. Upon meeting my friend, the first thing he tells her is that he is so into meditation that he meditates while receiving head. Wow. So zen. He proceeds to bounce around the party on only god knows what kinds of drugs.

Okay, so I may or may not have ended up hooking up with him anyway, at his friend’s place because he is “moving soon” to “create art” in “West Virginia” (READ: Homeless). He may or may not have just ended up pleasuring himself until he came, while covering his face with the hood of his hoodie.

SFAR.

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